


we were wild and fluorescent (come home to my heart)

by whyyesitscar



Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22169227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whyyesitscar/pseuds/whyyesitscar
Summary: The swarm of Chitauri closing in on you is stronger than you are fast; you know this. Still, you punch and kick and blast until they ground you, until you can’t see the sky through their bodies. Maybe Talos heard you. Maybe he’s close enough with the ship, about to land and save you. Or maybe today is the day you finally learn how much of a beating your body can take.or: obligatory 'carol recovers from an injury at home' fic.
Relationships: Carol Danvers/Maria Rambeau
Comments: 28
Kudos: 125





	we were wild and fluorescent (come home to my heart)

**Author's Note:**

> me: okay i'm in the mood to write a quick little danbeau drabble, let's keep this one short  
> also me: what if, instead, it wasn't short
> 
> title + lyrics from 'supercut' by lorde, pls enjoy

_so i fall into continents and cars;_  
_all the stages and the stars:_  
_i turn all of it to just a supercut._

_'cause in my head—_  
_(in my head, I do everything right)._

/

The dreams are your favorite part, if you can really have one. Fights are fun sometimes (winning is better), but you really have to search for a bright side when you get knocked out. It seems you always find one in your dreams because Maria is always there.

She is the constant in your life even though you forgot about her for six years. You wish you could say that a part of her was there, even then, but you know she wasn’t. Memories of Maria only started to come back when you watched her duck under the wing of her plane, eyes guarded and mouth open. You wish she would have smiled while you were outside instead of at the kitchen table. Maria is brighter than anyone you’ve met—you’re the one who glows but she was meant to be blinding. Nothing holds the sunlight quite as well as her lips.

The swarm of Chitauri closing in on you is stronger than you are fast; you know this. Still, you punch and kick and blast until they ground you, until you can’t see the sky through their bodies. Maybe Talos heard you. Maybe he’s close enough with the ship, about to land and save you. Or maybe today is the day you finally learn how much of a beating your body can take.

You close your eyes and wait.

/

_“Morning, beautiful.”_

_Maria smiles before she opens her eyes. You’re surprised she doesn’t roll them, like she usually does early in the morning when she’s still groggy and you have enough energy for three people._

_“It’s too early,” she mumbles._

_“You don’t even know what time it is.”_

_“I know if you’re waking me up, it’s early enough that you shouldn’t be.”_

_You smile and lift the blanket, sliding back into bed even though you’re already dressed. “I guess I can give you a few more minutes.”_

_Maria shifts closer and nestles her cheek against your chest. She’s comfy and almost too warm, but you pull the covers over both of you anyway. Maybe it’ll give her an incentive to get up sooner._

_“What time is it really?” she asks._

_“Four thirty.”_

_Maria groans and pushes against your shoulder. “And you were gonna wake me up? Why are you even awake anyway?”_

_“Monica had a bad dream and then the phone rang.”_

_“Oh yeah?”_

_“Yeah, it was Lawson. She needs someone for a last-minute flight, wanted to know if I could do it.”_

_“How long until you go?”_

_You press kisses to Maria’s face—her forehead, her cheeks, the sensitive spot behind her ear—until she laughs and finally opens her eyes. She retaliates with an emphatic kiss on your mouth, her lips sleep-dry and laden with morning breath._

_You love her anyway, and you smile again. “I’m not going,” you finally answer. “There’ll be others.”_

_“Then why are you dressed?”_

_“Um.” You’re suddenly aware of the buckle on your belt pressing a little uncomfortably into your stomach. “Habit, I guess.”_

_“You’re gonna have to iron your pants again anyway.” She heaves an enormous yawn. “Why don’t you get rid of those clothes and join me properly?”_

_Maria winks and you hang your head, laughing until your eyes crinkle in that way you know she loves. “Okay.”_

_You’re not in any hurry as you undress, even though Maria watches you the whole time. It’s four thirty on a Thursday morning. The sky is still dark and you can be slow. You even fold your shirt and slacks over a chair, just to tease Maria a little more. Your skin pebbles, unprotected against the breeze that floats in from the window Maria likes to keep open at night. You could close it, but there are more important things waiting for you in bed._

_You slide in again, waiting for Maria to wrap her warm, strong arms around your waist and lull you to sleep. Instead, she settles on top of you, kissing you slow and deliberate until you’re swimming in the sheets._

_“I thought you wanted to sleep,” you mutter against her lips._

_“And waste all this free time? You’re crazy, Danvers.”_

_“Yeah—crazy for you,” you charm, wiggling your eyebrows. It’s cheesy as hell and you both know it._

_Maria kisses you anyway._

/

The sun is shining when you wake up, so you know you’re not on the ship anymore. Also, there aren’t any Chitauri on top of you or anywhere you can see, so someone must have rescued you. (It’s these fine detective skills that have earned you the Captain Marvel title, you’re sure). You lift your head to investigate more and find that it hurts. Lots of things hurt. Everything hurts, actually.

It’s kind of nice to know that they still can.

You can’t keep your head up and it falls against what you presume is a pillow. You wiggle a little even though you’re sore, just to shake out the knots in your back. It doesn’t really work, but it kind of feels good to move. You wonder how long you’ve been unconscious.

A gust of wind ruffles the hair on your face, and even though this isn’t the room from your dream, you know where you are. You’ve definitely got to thank Talos the next time you see him.

Now that you’re awake, you can’t imagine staying in bed any longer. You take a deep breath and swing yourself up into a sitting position before you lose the nerve, maneuvering yourself so your legs hang over the bed and you can hold onto the nightstand.

Everything hurts _more_.

There are some pills and a glass of water waiting for you; you take them without even thinking. You cock your head to listen for sounds in the hallway but it’s quiet. “Maria?” you croak, and your voice sounds like rocks more than words. You clear your throat more than once and try again. “Monica?”

You’re too quiet to be heard even if anyone was upstairs, so you look around until you find your suit. It’s silly to use your communicator in the house, but you’re not going to struggle down the steps if no one’s waiting for you.

You redial the last person to call you, too tired to do anything else. A few doors down, you hear a ringing from Monica’s room.

She waits a bit before answering, absolutely aware that you can hear it. “Too lazy to walk down the hall?” she teases.

“I’d fly in there and get you if I could.”

Monica laughs, though her smile falters as she looks over your face. “Good thing you can’t, then. I’ll be right in.”

You make sure you’re at least standing when she knocks on the door, even if you’re still mostly supported by the bedside table.

You’re fucking wrecked, but the sight of her makes you smile.

“Hey, Trouble,” you grin.

Monica walks over and wraps her arm around your waist, a hug as much as it is a support. “Hi,” she replies, resting her head against your shoulder.

She’s tall enough now that you can lean on her, long and gangly in that awkward teenage way. Your first steps together are a little tangled but you get into a rhythm eventually.

“How long?” you ask.

“Three days,” she answers simply, like this is a normal thing that normal people go through. “I thought you should stay outside but Mom said you’re not solar-powered.”

You laugh and pinch her a little. “She’s right about that.”

“Everyone’s downstairs,” Monica says, anticipating your next question. “Talos didn’t want to leave until you woke up.”

“Oh, man,” you groan, “I don’t wanna leave so soon; I just woke up—”

“Are you kidding?” Monica stops at the top of the stairs, still holding onto you. “I don’t think Mom’s done yelling at him yet; you’re staying here for a while.”

“Oh.” You start walking down, one foot on each step rather than two but still slower than you’d like. “She didn’t have to do that.”

“Would you expect anything else?”

Once you’re at the bottom Monica tries to lead you to the kitchen, but you turn toward the windows in the living room. It’s so, _so_ sunny—and hot; you can feel it even from within this wonderful air-conditioned bubble. It must be late June, maybe July. One of those absolutely unbearable months unless you live north of Chicago. Which you suppose you could; technically you don’t really live anywhere. (Maria would argue otherwise).

You could go to the DMV while you’re here.

“Carol?”

The DMV and the post office, you decide as you turn around. It’s time.

You cross your arms over your chest and straighten up. “Hey. How are you?”

Maria looks at you like you have two heads. “Better now,” she finally says. “You?”

“About the same,” you wink.

She rolls her eyes but it works, and you feel some of your aches melt away as she walks toward you. Maria looks about as tired as you feel, but you won’t tell her that.

She stands in front of you and squeezes your shoulders, rubbing your arms as if you warm you up. You haven’t been cold for years, but. It’s nice.

You laugh as she leans your head from side to side, assessing the bruises around your eyes. “Are you a doctor now?”

Maria huffs a little. “Just very familiar with how you look beat up.”

“I didn’t start _that_ many fights,” you protest, but it’s a huge lie.

Maria knows it, too. “You started enough.”

“Yeah, well, look where it got me.”

“Exactly, Carol.” She sighs and, despite the exhaustion in her eyes, softens. “You’ve got a bit of hair sticking up. C’mere, let me fix it.” She motions for you to bend down.

“Monica let me walk out of the room like this? That rascal,” you say to the floor. Maria flips your hair to the right side of your head, smooths it down more than necessary. You start to uncoil but she holds you in place halfway up, kissing your forehead, her hands at the sides of your face.

“You’re gonna scare me to death one of these days,” she whispers.

“It’s pretty hard to take me down.” You try to sound reassuring but it doesn’t really work when you cough in the middle.

“Not impossible though,” Maria counters. She squishes your cheeks together, playful and familiar, and finally, finally kisses you. You could cry at the comfort of it, the warmth and safety she always carries. Maybe you do a little bit, but it doesn’t matter. You fold your arms around her and lay your head in the crook of her neck. She lets you sink into her embrace, leaning on her with a little extra weight. She doesn’t need it, but today you do.

“I love you,” you murmur. “I think about you all the time and every minute I’m out there, I’m trying my hardest to get back here.”

“I know, baby.”

“I’m sorry that it scares you.”

“We’ll work it out.”

You kiss her again because Maria is gracious and kind, because she always has so much to give. You could live forever on just the love she has for you, and you hope she feels the same way. (You try not to think about how someday you might have to do that).

You lean on her and she leans back, and that’s all you’ve ever wanted, really. Your legs are shaky now but soon they’ll be sturdy again, stalwart and unyielding against any obstacle Maria might face. One day you’ll spend all your time giving back.

Maria sniffles and pulls away, rubbing small circles on your back. “Come on, everyone’s outside. Monica made lemonade and we’re grilling hot dogs.”

“How many did you buy? Because I’m gonna eat a lot.”

“We’ve got enough, don’t worry,” Maria laughs as she threads an arm around your hips. You’re steadier now but you welcome it all the same.

“We should put some money on how many Skrulls like them.”

“I started a pool already.”

You throw your head back and laugh, giving a small wave as you step outside. Louisiana is stifling in the summer, the air muggy and clogged with water. But Talos and Soren and the rest of the Skrulls are undisguised under the shade of the hangar, and Monica sits on top of the prop plane until Maria catches her. You don’t notice any bugs because you’re too busy smiling at your family, separate pieces patched together into something whole.

Dreams are best when you can live them, you suppose.


End file.
